Mother’s Day in a Daughter’s Garden

To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power. Or the climbing, falling colors of a rainbow.   ~ Maya Angelou

The inheritance

I inherited my mother’s love of nature and gardening. Although my husband and four sons didn’t share in that love as much as I have over the years, they’ve built arbors, Koi ponds, trellises, and a fabulous fort that withstood several central Florida hurricanes.

They also helped me create a favorite vegetable and rose garden, so after many years of laughter and tears, I’ve come to cherish these labors of love as the best Mother’s Day gifts I’ve ever received.

Her garden and her way

Memories of my sister and me helping my dad gather smooth stones from a nearby stream to outline the small flowerbeds encircling huge oaks and maple trees in my mother’s upstate New York garden often come to mind. Mom claimed not to be creative, but made an oasis filled with pastel patches and borders of what I could only describe as woodland bliss.

She opens her mouth with wisdom, and teaching of kindnesss is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.

~ Proverbs 31:26-27 ESV

Together

Together, we girls deadheaded petunias and filled the birdbath from an old metal watering can while Mom pruned her roses. Dad and my ancient-looking Italian grandpa raked piles of grass and leaves and tended the 12X12 vegetable garden teeming with Zucchini, cucumbers, beefsteak tomatoes, and eggplants.

Another gardener in the making?

Although my mother’s smile revealed the joy she felt as we picked pink and white begonias, orange speckled tiger lilies, petunias, and pansies to display in glass jars on our picnic table, she often spoke of the solace she encountered while working in the garden. “This is where I talk to God,” she’d say, and I’d pretend not to notice the tear or two rolling down her cheeks.

Since I loved all flowers and everything summer, like swimming in frigid waterfall pools, building forts in the woods, rock collecting, or riding friends on my bicycle handlebars or back fender, I dreaded returning to the city in early September.

While I always say Mom introduced me to the love of nature and gardening, it was a way of life for my entire family. Together, we created patches of heaven on earth. Those precious moments shaped me into the garden girl, mother, and Numi (grandmother) I am today.

May you go out in joy and be led forth with peace; may the mountains and the hills burst into song before you, and may all the trees of the field clap their hands. ~ Isaiah 55:12

Dear friends,

Have you ever wondered if certain remembrances might help us navigate our current circumstances? Yesterday’s trials. Today’s dilemmas. Our filthy garden boots might look like a hole-ridden mess after we (and our gardens) have weathered many storms, but what if we slow down to see God’s work in our lives? Might situations and occurrences no longer cloud our vision?

We can gain understanding and knowledge from glorious moments, and time spent in mucky trenches. And sometimes, it’s in those moments where pain and suffering meet wisdom, renewal, and strength.

I believe my mother knew this truth, and in selflessly raising three daughters, God renewed her strength with the hope of heaven so she could inspire mine. That’s why I hope to spend this Mother’s Day in a daughter’s garden.

I’ve come to believe if I trust God with every fiber of my being, He will meet me where I am and show me His way. Every day. I hope and pray you trust him too.

Wishing you joy, peace, and strength for your journey this Mother’s Day and always,

Joann

 

I’d love to hear your thoughts and family stories. You can read more of my ramblings on my Dreamdove’s Flights of Fancy blog or Dovestories website (or click highlighted links within this post).

Special thanks to PIXABAY and image artists for free use of all images:

Feature: Image by Sudo from Pixabay, #1 Image by Graphix Made from Pixabay, #2 Image by Tung Lam from Pixabay, #3 Image by Vilius Kukanauskas from Pixabay